Enter, The Lady in Black, Stage Left
by Raquedan
Summary: The story that grew out of "moments" (don't bother looking, I took it down). The away team makes contact with another civilization. Eventually SheppardOFC. Yes, I know everyone hates OFC's. Just trust me.COMPLETE.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: This is the story that grew out of "Moments". I always intended to write it eventually, but the response to "Moments" actually convinced me to write it now. I stole the word "Alketch" and the name "Ezrikos" from Barbara Hambly.

* * *

Before he'd stepped through the gate at the beginning of this mission, Dr. Weir had come up to him.

"Major?" she had said, "Will you do me a favor?"

When he had just raised his eyebrows in calm curiosity, she had said, "Try not to get into trouble."

"You know, Doctor, I never actually _try_ to get into trouble."

"Well this time actively try not to."

He had flashed her one of his trademark smiles.

"I'll give it a shot. No promises."

And he had stepped through the gate with her laughter behind him into a circle of heavily armed troopers who were all aiming straight at his team.

So much for not getting into trouble.

"Marquez," snaps the trooper who seems to be in charge at one of his men, "get the captain, double time."

There's a voice behind Sheppard. "Oh, god. Not again."

McKay, of course.

"Rodney," Sheppard grits between his teeth, "shut up. Ford, Scherer, everybody, weapons down, hands up."

They aren't substantially outnumbered, but every single one of the troopers surrounding them is pointing something that is obviously a weapon at them. Actually, they look kind of like M-16's.

The soldiers appear to be of their same technological level, Sheppard scrutinizes their weapons and uniforms, if not slightly more advanced.

Their uniforms are black, and consist of black combat pants, much like Sheppard's own, and what looks like a tight, black leather flight jacket, with combat boots.

Definitely soldiers.

The leading trooper, noticing his scrutiny, snaps, "Do not attempt to reach a weapon. I will execute with extreme prejudice my orders to insure the safety of…"

Another voice cuts him off.

A low, husky, _female_ voice.

"Really, Sergeant," says the voice, who's owner is presumably concealed behind the other troopers, "you must try to contain these violent impulses of yours. Have they offered any resistance?"

By this point, the speaker has come into view.

It's a young, dark haired woman, perhaps in her late twenties, wearing the same uniform as all the troopers, aside from insignia, of course.

The first trooper is still glaring malevolently at Sheppard and fingering his weapon.

"Sergeant?" says the woman, half-turning from her slightly advanced position to look at the trooper, "Have they offered any resistance?"

She repeats the question at though the sergeant was too slow to understand it the first time.

Reluctantly, the sergeant says, "No, Captain. They have not."

She turns to look at Sheppard, but speaks to the sergeant behind her.

"Then stand down."

"But, Captain…"

She doesn't look back at him, she just tilts her head slightly to the left, and the sergeant cuts off mid-sentence.

"Yes, sir. Squad One, stand down."

He complies, but he does not look happy about it.

'No sudden moves,' Sheppard thinks to himself.

"Now then," the captain says to him, "you will please identify yourselves."

Despite the implied request, her tone makes it perfectly clear that this is an order.

Sheppard laces his fingers together on top of his head and says, "Major John Sheppard, United States Air Force, Military commander of Atlantis," and then adds, "This is a peaceful, scientific mission."

"A rather heavily armed peaceful scientific mission," sneers the disgruntled sergeant. "In fact, you look more like a …"

"Sergeant Toombs."

The captain enunciates every syllable of the two words very clearly.

The sergeant swallows hard. "Yes, sir?"

Her tone is velvet covered steel.

"May I remind you we are also on a heavily armed, peaceful scientific mission."

It obviously isn't a question, but the sergeant says, "Yes, sir," anyway.

The captain turns her attention back to the Atlantis away-team.

"Atlantis is not a world known to me," she says. "Have we allies or enemies in common?"

Sheppard considers that. "Well, we don't really have a whole lot of allies at the moment. I guess you could count the Athosians."

The captain shakes her head. "They are also unknown to me. Enemies?"

Sheppard sighs. "Well, the Genii, I suppose. The Wraith, of course."

The captain smiles for the first time. "The Wraith are everyone's enemies. Very well, Major. You say you are on a scientific mission?"

At his nod, she continues.

"I have no objections to your presence on this planet. I would ask that you respect our camp boundaries and am willing to offer you the same courtesy."

Sheppard drops his hands and says, "That's fine, Captain. May my men rearm?"

She nods, and is turning to signal her men away, when Sheppard calls out to her.

"Captain?"

She turns back, raising her eyebrows over what appear to be her world's version of aviator sunglasses.

"Never got your name."

After several seconds she says, "I am Captain Ezrikos, Commander Strike Force One, Royal Alketch Space Force."

Sheppard nods. "You got a first name, Captain?"

She stares at him in something like incredulity for a long moment, the soldiers on both sides tense and confused.

"Yes," she says finally, but it's clear she's not going to tell him what it is.

"Alright then," he says after a moment, and he turns to signal the away team in the direction McKay indicates might be of interest.

Captain Ezrikos, Royal Alketch Space Force, watches him move off.

Sergeant Desperaux comes up to her. "So," she says, chewing gum noisily, "who was that?"

They're both staring after the Atlantis party as he gives instructions to his men.

"Major John Sheppard."

"Hmm. Well, he's handsome."

Desperaux is one of her few close friends. "Very," she says in agreement. "I get the feeling he knows it, too."

"Yeah, well. When you look like that, modesty becomes something akin to stupidity."

Ezrikos turns to her friend, and snorts indignantly. "Come on. He's not _that_…" She breaks off, and turns back to stare after the Major's group.

"You may have a point there."

Desperaux grins and the Captain shakes her head. "Keep an eye on him, will you?"

The Sergeant's grin turns wicked. "Gladly, sir."

And Ezrikos walks away, shaking her head, with the sense that the aggravatingly handsome Major Sheppard is going to complicate her life something awful.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Yeah! Chapter two! Sorry about the delay, I'm usually better than this but school's been crazy lately and I only post on odd days… Don't ask, there is no explanation.

* * *

It takes Major Sheppard six hours to manage to get into trouble again, but when he does, he gets into _serious_ trouble. 

John Sheppard never does anything halfway.

He and Corporal O'Grady are checking out an area about a mile and a half out from the Atlantis team temporary base. It's slow going walking through the brush and thin trees up the slight incline, and when Sheppard stops to look around O'Grady gets ahead of him, cresting the slight rise. You aren't supposed to get ahead of your CO.

It's the last mistake O'Grady ever makes.

Sheppard isn't sure why, but something makes him turn suddenly so he's looking right at O'Grady when the shot takes the corporal in the chest and he collapses.

Sheppard makes it to the crest of the hill in record time and ducks, just missing getting stunned for the second time in as many months.

There's a Wraith ship in the valley below him.

He's lying on the ground, waiting. He can't get to O'Grady, but he knows he's still alive so he isn't particularly worried.

High time somebody else joined the I-got-shot-with-a-Wraith-stun-gun club.

Without looking up he points his P-90 in the Wraith's general direction, pulls the trigger, and adjusts until he hears the thing, (he tries to always think of the Wraith as "things") make Goddamit-he-shot-me! sounds. At about that moment, as he raises his head and sees the Wraith go down, he notices movement in the corner of his eye. It can't be O'Grady yet; the man should still be paralyzed.

Unless he's immune. That would be interesting.

It's not O'Grady; it's another Wraith.

Even as he swivels to fire he can see the thing bringing its weapon to bear, and even as he pulls the trigger and sees the bullets hit the thing he feels the shiver in the air that always precedes being stunned and he very clearly thinks, 'Not again.'

And then he falls down the hill.

* * *

Six hours go by in relative peace and quiet. 

The scientists find some interesting (to them) form of mold, Sergeant Toombs apologizes stiffly for his actions, and Desperaux comes back from "keeping an eye" on the Atlantians with a smirk and a report that they're doing pretty much the same thing the Alketch are: wandering after the scientists.

Six hours of peace and quiet.

And then gunshots.

Conditioned from childhood to be able to tell the difference between Alketch Ground Corps troops strafing from helicopters and raiders strafing from trucks, Ezrikos has only a momentary thought that the shots might be her men. They aren't.

Which makes it the Atlantians. And not her problem.

More shots.

It is _not_ her problem.

But she's the farthest out of all her people, the closest to the vague Atlantian zone, and she can still hear gunfire. Faint but sure.

Ezrikos has very, very good hearing.

And a sense of…responsibility?

Damn her and her instincts.

She tilts her head sharply, listening. Was that…?

And then she takes off running, another thing she's particularly good at, toward the suddenly silent area where a moment ago there was gunfire.

* * *

Ezrikos is no stranger to the Wraith. Or to war. 

She is thirty-two years old, and for the first eighteen years of her life she lived with her father's people in the middle of the Greater Desert laying traps for the Alketch Ground Corps, who were continually trying to kill the Bahzir.

As an officer of the Alketch Space Corps, she doesn't talk about that anymore.

But it did help prepare her for the Wraith.

Even the Space Force is trained in ground warfare, mostly guerrilla warfare, because brass assumes that any pilot having to fight on the ground was probably shot down alone.

They had to train with the Ground Corps, who Ezrikos grew up calling "the dust-eaters." She had bitten her tongue and worked hard at not attacking anyone in a homicidal rage. She qualified out of the program in three weeks; she was a trained guerrilla warrior at five years old.

So: instead of rushing out into the middle of the clearing like an idiot, she stops at the edge where the trees start to fade into the dry grass, and looks around.

The first thing she sees is the two-man Wraith ship.

The second thing she sees is Major Sheppard lying very still in the middle of the clearing (probably having fallen down the hill while stunned) between her and…the Wraith.

One Wraith, who appears to be finishing off a half-hidden Atlantian soldier. Nothing she can do about that.

Where's the other Wraith?

At this point, the Wraith finishes with the unfortunate Atlantian, straightens, and starts toward Major Sheppard in that menacing, stalking way they have.

Still no sign of the other Wraith. It could be behind her for all she knows.

The Wraith she can see is getting steadily closer to the paralyzed Major.

Dammit, dammit, dammit.

She hits the panic button on her radio, which, actually, she should have done several minutes ago.

And then she draws her sidearm, and steps into the clearing, the little voices in her head all screaming, "Stupid, stupid, stupid!"

* * *

The Wraith looks very surprised when she puts two bullets in its chest. It stops suddenly. 

They're maybe 20 yards apart, staring at each other over the Major's body. There's a long moment of stunned silence and stillness. And then the Wraith growls at her.

And Ezrikos shoots him again.

Later she will remember walking slowly towards the Wraith, and the Major, while firing steadily and reloading automatically.

All she knows at the moment is that there's a Wraith in front of her.

Because she's moving faster than the Wraith, probably because no one is shooting her, she gets to the Major first.

She bends down next to him, and while reloading one-handed, she presses two fingers against his throat, hoping that they're biologically similar enough for this to work.

The man's pulse is strong, if not exactly steady, so she gets back up, spares a thought for the other Wraith, and then steps over the major, and advances, still firing, on the one Wraith she can see.

He snarls at her, and drops to his knees when she is six feet away. He makes as if to reach out to her, and she puts two bullets between his eyes.

He drops like a stone, and does not move. Ezrikos takes a long look at him, then looks around, and doesn't see another Wraith.

She walks back to the Major and picks up his weapon, some kind of machine gun, she thinks.

Ezrikos goes back to the downed Wraith, points the machine gun at him, and fires until she can see the ground through the space where the thing's head used to be.

When she stops there's a ringing silence. She looks around and, past the forms of approaching Atlantian soldiers, she spots the body of the other Wraith.

It was there before, she realizes. Major Sheppard must have killed it.

One of the Atlantian soldiers comes up to her, and she hands him the machine gun.

"I borrowed this," she says.

He nods. Something in his eyes clues her in.

"You found more Wraith?"

This time a verbal reply. "Yes, Captain."

She nods to herself, watching her own people come out of the woods at a run, looking around for her. They appear to have had a few run-ins themselves.

"Maybe we should stick together."

The relief that spreads over the young lieutenant's face is answer enough.

* * *

A/N: Coming up…eventually. Smug scientists, more Wraith, and …could that possibly be coffee? Notice how the Wraith went from being an "it" to being a "him"? Neither did I. Could there possibly be veiled significance? Amaruk will like that. 


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: I'm not upset over the few reviews, really, I understand. I _hate_ reading stories with original main characters in them; it would be unreasonable to assume that people would be willing to read mine. Doesn't matter. I'll keep writing anyway, I've got to get it out.

* * *

John Sheppard stomps down a corridor of the ruins they've taken over, the familiar pins and needles all over his body not improving his mood at all. 

He _hates_ getting shot with those things.

Both the Atlantian and the Alketch scientists have taken over one of the few enclosed spaces left standing. McKay and a woman who appears to be the head Alketch scientist, or at least the loudest, are having a very animated conversation about quantum physics. The other scientists are carefully ignoring them.

While he was laid up from his little encounter, Captain Ezrikos took command of the situation.

Including his men.

He doesn't blame Ford; from his brief interaction with the captain he would assume that Ezrikos is a steamroller of a natural leader, and the cardinal rule of command has always been "act as though you assume people will follow your orders...and they usually will."

Although, as he watches her direct men from the ancient, undefendable ramparts to the clearest possible perimeter, he's surprised McKay didn't object.

He looks over at McKay again. He appears to be quite distracted over his discussion of quarks and other various subatomic particles with the other scientist.

Maybe Ezrikos had something to do with that.

He certainly wouldn't put it past her, but it's not like he's angry with her about it. As the ranking officer she had every responsibility to assume command. The fact that she's ordering his men around is probably good in the long run.

Besides, she did save his life.

He remembers that much. Staring at the Wraith as it got closer and closer, then a black period full of the sound of gunshots, and two fingers against his throat, and then Ezrikos stepping over him, putting herself between him and the Wraith.

That he would have done exactly the same thing for her or any of her people makes no difference.

She notices him and starts to come over; he meets her halfway.

"A couple of your people think they spotted an encampment three klicks southwest. I think it's worth checking out." Her tone is brisk, and businesslike, and it doesn't fool him for a second. He watched her walk back to him, take his P-90 and turn the Wraith's face into spaghetti sauce: he knows how shaken she was.

"Probably so," he says. "Mind if I go?"

She looks him over critically. "You up to it?"

When he just gives her a look she says, "I was thinking one of us should probably stay here."

"Okay."

She glares. "I'm going."

He takes another step towards her, standing close enough that she has to look up at him.

"So am I."

The staring contest would be more effective if she wasn't wearing sunglasses. As it is, the episode is unnerving.

"Do you ever take those off?"

The sudden change in subject throws her. "What?"

"The sunglasses," he explains, "Do you ever take them off?"

Her silence is more perplexed than angry. She just can't figure him out.

If he had a quarter for every time a woman had looked at him like that…

"Not often." She pauses, and then, choosing to get back on topic, says, "I can leave Desperaux in charge."

"Fine, Captain."

She nods, and turns, presumably to find Desperaux who now has the low-pressure job of defending the camp.

"By the way, thanks for saving my life."

Ezrikos turns back to him, giving him another long, measuring look.

"We may not get along, Major, but I'm hardly going to let you get eaten by a Wraith."

He nods. "Ditto."

A blank look. "I'm sorry?"

"Same here," he explains. "I wouldn't let anyone eat you either."

He's not entirely sure about the look she gives him, but it doesn't seem overtly homicidal.

"That's good to know."

And she walks away.

* * *

Three klicks doesn't sound like much, but it's a serious walk, especially when every step has to be carefully scouted before taking it. 

John Sheppard decides that the best cure for his boredom is to try and get some reaction out of Ezrikos other than a long, measuring look.

Questions about the Alketch military don't do it. She's all too willing to answer something similar to his question and then turn it back on him with a question of her own. By the time he gives up that tack he's certain she knows much more about Atlantis than he intended to let her know.

He hopes she never has reason to interrogate him.

They're carefully approaching the Wraith temporary encampment when he switches to personal questions. Flirting with her isn't professional, and it isn't exactly nice, but it sure is fun.

"Major? Could this possibly wait until we are somewhere other than sixty feet from a rather large Wraith encampment?"

He squints at the group of ships through his binoculars. "Sure, Captain."

Ezrikos gives what he's fairly sure is a sigh of relief. A new reaction!

They talk military tactics for a while, and he knows she's just waiting for him to insinuate something, so he doesn't. Nothing wrong with keeping her on the edge.

The little recon group is almost back to the ruin the scouts claim is the only defensible structure around, in the deepest, darkest part of the forest, when he says, "Is now good for you?"

She stops directly in front of him, turns, and takes her sunglasses off.

Her eyes are black.

"Major?"

"Yes?" he asks, politely, staring at her. She was attractive before, in a strong, military, exotic way. Without the sunglasses as a distraction she is beautiful.

"When are you going to give this up?"

"Never, Captain." He looks her in the eye, and keeps his voice perfectly level. "I never give up."

She looks surprised at that. "Really?"

"Really."

She puts her sunglasses back on, and turns back to the path. As she starts walking again, she says, dryly,

"I like that in a man."

He stands stock still in the middle of the path for a long, shocked moment. And then he gives a sharp bark of laughter, and follows her out into the sun.

Well, that was a reaction alright.


	4. Chapter 4

Ezrikos is standing in the shadows, watching the scientists (her new favorite pastime- much like watching a comedy show) argue about who is going back to check on the Stargate when the young Atlantian lieutenant comes back with a scout group looking very grim.

She takes a half-step forward into the sun and he comes to her to report instead of looking for his CO.

Amazing what a little subtle body language will do for your credibility.

"Captain," he says with a nod and a sketchy salute, "we may have problem."

Fantastic.

"That's nice, lieutenant," she says with a perfectly straight face, "I haven't had any problems today; I've been looking forward to one."

Actually, that's not true. She _has_ had a problem today.

That problem would be Major Sheppard. Somehow, someway, in the nineteen hours she's known him, the man has gotten under her skin.

She can't _believe_ she said that to him.

Okay, so, yes, she does like perseverance in a man, that's no reason to mention it to another military officer, even if she was teasing.

A superior military officer.

A superior military officer in a completely different military.

Nineteen hours, and he's driving her crazy.

She doesn't share any of that with the lieutenant. Forge, she thinks his name might be. Something like that anyway.

"What problem, lieutenant?"

The young man looks her in the eye (well, she's wearing sunglasses, but close enough) and says, "There's an even larger Wraith encampment further to the south. It, umm…well, it looks like a mining expedition, ma'am."

Great.

"Sir," she corrects him, absently.

"I'm sorry?"

"The Alketch address all military officers as 'sir' regardless of gender. Although you don't actually have to address me as anything so it couldn't possibly make the least difference."

She's babbling, and she makes herself stop.

Focus, dammit.

"A mining expedition you said?"

His confused look vanishes. "Yes, ma'am. I mean, sir."

She nods, mostly to herself. "Okay. A further examination is probably in order. Grab a snack or something, lieutenant. You'll need to come along."

He doesn't move. Ezrikos sighs and gives the lieutenant a sidelong look. He seems tired, but uncomplaining. Good soldier, this kid.

"Go on, but stick around here. I'll go get Major Sheppard."

Gods help her.

* * *

Major Sheppard is talking to one of his soldiers in medical when she finds him. She steps into the space vaguely designated as medical, but he doesn't notice her, and she takes the time to study him, not wanting to interrupt. 

There should be a law against looking that good after being stunned by a Wraith and tramping through the forest. It's just not fair. And it makes it really hard to concentrate.

Actually, there should be a law against looking that good period.

He needs a haircut, she thinks, savagely. She likes it, but it isn't nearly military enough for a man of his rank, and it's the only thing about his appearance she can honestly criticize.

Or so she thinks until he turns and looks at her, and her thoughts come to a screeching halt, and she has to admit that there is _nothing_ she can honestly criticize. She just stares at him, utterly speechless.

Stupid hormones.

"Yes, Captain?" His raised eyebrows do very interesting things to his face, and it takes her a moment to remember why she came looking for him.

Hopefully he'll think she's just being mysterious.

"Lieutenant…ah…Forge?"

"Ford," he corrects.

"That's it. Lieutenant Ford has returned with the scout group, apparently the Wraith are here in greater force than we originally suspected, and are executing some sort of mining project. Lieutenant Ford recommends, and I agree, that we should get some deeper intel."

The military jargon is a comfort when she's off-guard, not that she'd ever admit it.

Sheppard thinks about it for a second, then nods, and says, "Gonna try and keep me off this one too?"

Ezrikos counts to ten in her mind. "No, Major. Anyone else you'd like to have?"

Might as well get into the spirit of cooperation; they could be here awhile.

* * *

In the end it's Ezrikos and Sheppard, Lieutenant Ford, a Sergeant Markham, and Sergeant Spruance. Spruance is one of Ezrikos' people, and the leader of squad four. She tapped him for this because he's the best of the military personnel with Wraith technology. 

A handy talent, that.

The Wraith are about four and a half klicks out. Fortunately for her sanity, Major Sheppard does not talk the entire way. She's afraid to think what she might say to him now.

In fact, he doesn't say anything besides the normal, mission stuff, "all clear, circle left, on your four", stuff like that, until the path drops over a small cliff, and when he steps over it he turns to look up at her and says, "Watch your step."

She thinks he would have offered her a hand if his weren't full of weapons.

She glares anyway. He seems to sense it, even through her sunglasses, and he flashes her a grin that turns her brain to mush and says, "Sorry. Habit."

Ezrikos doesn't say anything because she's too busy trying to stay on her feet and remember how to breathe at the same time.

That grin. That grin should _definitely_ be outlawed.

Especially in times like this where distracting the person on his six will almost definitely get him killed. Probably by the three million Wraith that happen to be just on the other side of that hill.

Okay, so it's not three million. It sure looked like it at first glance, no wonder Ford seemed grim.

"'bout a hundred of them," Sheppard says, peering through his binoculars at the pit they've begun digging. "What the hell are they doing?"

Ezrikos lies down next to him, takes the binoculars, hands them to Sergeant Spruance, and hisses, "What the hell are they doing?"

Spruance takes his time, just to annoy her, she's sure, and then says, "I think it's an iridium mine."

"Why the hell would they want iridium?" This from Major Sheppard, of course.

Sergeant Spruance loves to lecture. "Well, actually, the economic ramifications of…"

"Sergeant? Why?" Ezrikos has known him long enough not to let him get started.

"Oh, uh, they use it as decoration."

Anything that isn't military or practical seems to throw Sheppard, something Ezrikos finds to be an admirable trait.

"You mean, like jewelry?"

"Exactly."

Ezrikos looks at her sergeant and asks, "Do we care?" The important question in this situation, she feels.

"Umm…I don't think so."

She combat crawls backwards. "All I need to know."

Everyone seems to agree, and they get headed back, fast.

"Plan?" she asks the major once they're out of range.

"Get off this planet as fast as possible," he says, "We don't have the men or the equipment to set up a reconnaissance mission."

"Agreed. Plus, they know we're here."

"There is that. You?"

She's walking beside him now, easier to talk that way. "Same. The scientists will bitch and moan about their ground-breaking mold samples, but what else do they ever do?"

Sheppard grins. "Yeah, but what would we do without them?"

"Vacation?"

"Very funny." He seems to think something's wrong, he's looking around, and moving more cautiously than he was before.

"What is it?" she breathes, holding up a clenched fist to signal the men behind her.

Sheppard braces his P-90 against his shoulder. "Something's wrong."

And that's when the Wraith appear from nowhere.

* * *

Ezrikos was careful not to bring anyone but Wraith veterans on this little excursion. Not that any of her people are new to the Wraith. 

It pays off. They all drop flat, and not one single soldier gets hit in the first barrage of stunners.

Actually, some of the stun bolts that fly over their heads hit other Wraith in the circle, something she's previously only seen in bad movies.

The intuitive Major Sheppard opens fire, followed quickly by everyone else, and the Wraith are whittled down to three in a minute or so.

"Move!" Ezrikos snaps at the others, and take the three in a rush and keep running. Six Wraith are probably a perimeter team, letting more catch up to them would be a very bad thing.

Waiting for them at the ruins-cum-base is another bad thing.

Doctor Rodney McKay.

Or, more accurately, Dr. McKay's news.

Apparently, the Stargate has been damaged. There's a long, technical explanation which the scientists shout over each other to explain, and Ezrikos actually understands most of it, but the point is, until they can fix it, they're stuck here.

And they can't fix it until they get back out there.

And there are roughly a hundred Wraith on the planet.

Four and a half klicks south.


	5. Chapter 5

It took the Wraith three hours to find the ruins; by the time things got even remotely interesting it was already dark.

Fortunately, Wraith have as much trouble seeing in the dark as humans. Also fortunately, the only Wraith to find them were four scout groups who apparently had some communication problems.

Long story short: all the humans who weren't already dead survived the night.

John Sheppard is beginning to wish he had never set foot through the Stargate. Okay, so maybe that's a slight exaggeration and he doesn't really mean it. It sure feels like a good idea at the moment.

He's wondering if anyone will notice if he falls asleep while overseeing the morning watch.

A husky, distinctly amused voice at behind his shoulder jerks him back to attention.

"Good morning, Major. Long night?'

He had to deal with the scientists last night. They've developed a nasty habit of all talking at once. Not that they didn't always do that, but now there are more of them.

"Very."

Captain Ezrikos moves up to stand next to him at the crumbling wall, looking unfairly alert for someone who's had just as little sleep as he has. She looks up at him, taking in his half-open eyes and very unruly hair, and then she offers him the mug in her hand.

"Here."

"What is it?" He sniffs at it, dubiously. It smells very familiar…could this be coffee?

"Just drink it."

By God. It _is_ coffee. Very, very strong coffee. He chokes on it a little.

"Wow."

"I know," says one of the Alketch scientists, moving up to stand with them, "the captain insists on brewing it that way. Imperial _kaf_ is much lighter. The captain drinks this stuff like water because her people brew it about five times stronger, but several others and I make an Imperial style pot for the more civilized among us and you're welcome to…"

The scientist cuts off as Sheppard up-ends the mug and swallows every last drop of the stuff.

He hands the mug back to Ezrikos. "Don't let McKay know you make it like that or he'd be all over you. That was just what I needed, thank you."

She grins at him for the first time since they met. "Not too strong?"

"I've had three hours of sleep in the last two days. There is no such thing as 'too strong'."

She laughs. "You should try it in my home camp. I'll show you strong."

Flipping him a casual salute, she moves off into the maze of ruined buildings.

The doctor stays.

"What did she mean by 'my home camp'?"

The scientist sighs. "The captain is a Bahzir, Major. It's fairly obvious from her last name, but you wouldn't know that, of course."

"She's a what?"

"A Bahzir." From his recent exposure to scientists, Sheppard can see the man settling into "lecture mode": the place where all scientists are most comfortable.

"Bahzir is a general name for any of about a thousand tribes of desert nomads on Casca, one of the Imperial colonies. Among other various traditions, they brew _kaf_ very strong and drink it from childhood. Part of the reason they generally don't sleep much."

So that's her secret. "Are the Bahzir common in the Alketch military?"

The scientist laughs, a little shocked. "Oh, God, no! No, the captain is quite the exception."

"To the detriment of the Force," says a female voice behind them, and they both turn to see Sergeant Desperaux, who seems to be Ezrikos' confidant. She comes up to lean carefully against the crumbling wall.

"The Bahzir are not looked upon favorably by Imperials." Sheppard catches the very faint bitterness beneath her otherwise emotionless tone.

"You're an exception, I take it."

The sergeant sighs. "I've known Ezrikos for ten years, I was with her at Alden Ford, and I'd die for her without a second thought, sir."

He's noticed that the Alketch tend to call him "sir," even though he's from an entirely different military.

"Alden Ford?"

She tosses her head dismissively. "A battle. I've got an interesting treatise on it I'll loan you if we survive, my point is, you get used to things."

"Well, I for one," chimes in the scientist, "have as yet been unable to get used to Captain Ezrikos."

Both Sheppard and Desperaux grin. "She has that effect on people," Desperaux admits, "It's the eyes."

"Hah! It's more than that!" The scientist laughs and moves off as one of his colleagues beckons to him, nodding pleasantly to the two soldiers.

"What is it with her eyes?" Sheppard asks when the scientist has left. "She never takes off those sunglasses."

"She takes them off when it's dark," Desperaux replies mildly, not looking at him.

"No, she doesn't. She wears them at night, I've seen her."

"There are ten floodlights on these grounds, Major. I said she takes them off when it's _dark_."

"The light hurts her eyes?"

The sergeant sighs. "Yeah. It's kind of complicated and would take a biologist with an evolution focus to explain completely, but I can try if you're really that interested."

He glances out over the milling watch squads. "For once, I've got nothing else to do."

"Alright then." She takes a deep breath, organizing her thoughts. "The Bahzir are mostly the same as Alketch Imperials, genetically speaking, but the Bahzir planet, Casca, is so much different from the other Imperial colonies, that the Bahzir have evolved farther than we have."

Sheppard cracks his neck, considering. "That's deep."

"It gets better. Casca has very short days, so since it's night most of the time and the Bahzir basically never sleep, their eyes evolved. The way I understand it, their pupils dilated all the way out through the iris, so every Bahzir looks like they have black eyes. Something else happened to the eyes that makes them kind of iridescent, but I'm not sure what it is. Still with me?"

"Still with you."

"Okay." She visibly regroups, watching McKay "talk" to two very confused looking soldiers, one Alketch, one Atlantian. "Uh, okay. In light they just have no iris, and that's as far as their pupils can retract, hence the sunglasses."

"Got it."

"But in darkness – and this is the cool part – their pupils expand even farther, so that in complete darkness their eyes have no whites and they can see almost perfectly."

Sheppard is silent, processing that. "That could be both an asset, and a hindrance."

Desperaux leans on the railing. "Yeah, tell me about it. The captain almost never takes off those sunglasses."

Something from his half remembered biology classes is nagging at him. "There's no crossbreeding between Bahzir and Alketch?"

"No. Casca was one of the last colonies; it's on the outer rim of the Empire. Actually, this planet we're on now is closer to Casca than Alketch, or so the scientists tell me when they need someone to at least pretend they're listening."

He grins. "Yeah, I think we've all had that experience. Gotta love 'em."

The sergeant snorts and shakes her head. "Anyway. The Bahzir are also incredible runners, and I think there's some other evolutionary thing. Flexibility or something, I forget."

Sheppard nods. "Thanks for explaining it to me; I appreciate it."

Sergeant Desperaux gives him a very direct look.

"Word of advice? Ezrikos isn't the kind of woman I'm sure you're used to. She's not just gonna roll over once you turn on the charm." She walks away before he can retort.

"Hey," he calls after her, "does she have a first name?"

Desperaux grins. "Yes," she calls back, and then she disappears into the complex.

* * *

McKay, typically, has a plan.

On the surface it's a very simple plan – get to the Stargate, fix it, go through to Atlantis because it's closer than Alketch before the Wraith kill us all – but you have to add the McKay factor, which makes all plans workable but difficult.

Not that they won't get through, McKay will figure out something, and if for some reason he doesn't, well, there's about ten other scientists and a whole bunch of soldiers to figure out something, it just won't be easy.

And it isn't.

Oh, they get to the Stargate largely unmolested, but from there it all goes to hell.

It's much too quiet. While the scientists scurry around and harangue each other, only deigning to address a soldier when heavy lifting is needed, Major Sheppard is standing next to the captain, staring at the forest, where it is much too quiet.

Ezrikos turns to signal the men behind them to attention – she knows something is wrong too – but Sheppard's eyes stay fixed on the forest. Which is why, when the first stun bolts come flying through the trees, he's able to take Ezrikos down and out of the line of fire.

It probably saves her life.

Granted, they're only stun-bolts, but when the Wraith start pouring through in force, which, predictably, they do, she would probably have been killed.

Pinned to the ground beneath him, she gives him a very surprised look, (or at least he thinks it's a very surprised look – the sunglasses make it hard to tell) and says, "I hate to say I told you so…but I told you so."

Which is true.

They both roll to their knees to return fire along with the others, and he says, "The next time you tell me a plan is stupid, I'll listen."

A Wraith grenade (apparently eating them is no longer a priority) lands less than ten feet from him and the blast knocks him sideways to the ground. When he can hear again Ezrikos is saying, "If there is a next time. Are you alright?"

He nods. "Just knocked me down, that's all."

She gives him a doubtful look, but there are slightly more important things to be worrying about right now.

Like the army of Wraith.

From behind them, thankfully, comes McKay's strident voice. "We're up! Wormhole imminent!"

Sheppard doesn't hear the IDC go in, or the predictable brief conversation with Atlantis (Weir is gonna crucify him for this one, stay out of trouble his ass), because the next few minutes are made very interesting by the three million Wraith pouring out of the tree line for them.

"Get in the gate!" he shouts to everyone in general, and the soldiers start retreating backwards, covering the scientists as theygo through.

He feels, as if from a great distance, his heel hit the edge of the gate steps and stumbles up them, his head suddenly fuzzy.

Ezrikos is giving him a very odd, almost worried look (she really needs to talk more, communicating solely in different expressions is getting a little weird) as he falls backward through the gate.

His last clear thought before the disorienting fuzziness of de-molecularization, is "Oh, shit."

* * *

A/N: Thank you to everyone who reviews even sporadically, especially Amaruk for the interesting mental images of Steve the plush doll. (Where can I get one!) Stolen things: the "Bahzir" from Tamora Pierce, "Casca" from C.S. Friedman, _kaf_ from the Liavek series, Sergeant Nimashet Desperaux from John Ringo's March Upcountry, the whole eye thing from Pitch Black/Chronicles of Riddick, and "Alketch" and "Ezrikos" from Barbara Hambly. I own nothing except the dialogue, and even some of that is stolen from other things. 


	6. Chapter 6

All she can see of Atlantis at the moment is the spacious room that holds the Stargate, and about a dozen armed soldiers, but something about the place gives Ezrikos a bad feeling.

A you-_really­_-aren't-going-to-like-this feeling.

She was the last person through the gate; around her the rest of the party is gasping for breath and looking around warily. Well, the Alketch are looking around warily. The Atlantians have collapsed in relief.

"Status?" she calls out. A dozen half-hearted mumbles of "I'm fine, skipper" result.

Usually they're better behaved than this. Although these are kind of trying circumstances.

But you should never look undisciplined in front of…she's not sure what the Atlantians are to them. Well, you should never look undisciplined period.

"Strike Force One, status?" Her shout echoes from the high ceiling, and instantly her people are standing at attention. They bitch and moan about all the drills, but those things sure are effective.

Lt. Emmons says, "One casualty, sir. PFC Owens. Only minor injuries otherwise."

Owens had been killed in one of the initial skirmishes. The Wraith got him alone.

"Thank you, Lieutenant." She turns her attention back to the room at large. Major Sheppard is standing a few feet from her, shaking his head slowly. He doesn't look good.

Well, he always looks good. He looks unwell is the point.

"Sir?" one of his sergeants is asking, "you alright?"

He visibly straightens. "I'm fine, sergeant. I just…"

A woman's authoritative voice cuts him off.

"Major Sheppard, at the risk of sounding clichéd, who are these people, and what happened to not getting into trouble?"

The Major looks chagrined. "Ah. That. Umm, well…" he trails off. "I'm sorry about that, but we didn't really have a choice."

The woman, Ezrikos can see her now, is a brunette slightly older than the major appears to be. A civilian, she thinks.

"You never do, Major. The Wraith?" the woman is saying.

"Yeah." He looks around at everyone else in the room. "Doctor, this is Strike Force One of the Royal Alketch Space Force, and this," he tilts his head to the left, "is Captain Ezrikos."

He turns to look at her, and says, "Sorry about your lost man."

To which she replies, "Sorry about yours."

He nods, the lines around his eyes far more pronounced than usual. "Captain, this is Doctor Elizabeth Weir, the head of Atlantis base."

The civilian woman has come partway up the rampart to them; she holds out one hand and says, "A pleasure to meet you, Captain."

Ezrikos takes the hand and nods politely. "A few of my people may require medical attention…"

"Of course, Captain." Dr. Weir turns back toward the staircase calling, "A med team please, Doctor Beckett."

Her gaze is very intense when she faces them again. Born to command, this one. "I assure you your people will be taken care of. Do you require attention yourself?"

At Ezrikos' assurance that she does not, Weir says, "I would like an explanation. If both of you would accompany me?"

Without waiting for a reply, she turns and heads back toward the main part of the structure, Major Sheppard on her heels.

* * *

Once ensconced in her office, Dr. Weir drops a little of the stiffness, but none of the competency. 

"Now then, Captain," she says briskly, "you and your team are welcome to remain as long as you require, but I would like to know where you come from. And what happened."

Ezrikos starts with an explanation of the situation that led to their residency, and then moves into the spiel about the Empire which every Stargate team is required to memorize and when Dr. Weir tries to take the conversation toward military capabilities, Ezrikos gently steers away from the topic and lets the talk degenerate into a discussion of economics.

Dr. Weir lets her, but with a gentle smile that says she isn't fooled in the slightest.

"Very well," she says when satisfied, "suppose we go out to control and contact your Stargate command." She raises her eyebrows to make the statement an implied question and adds, "I assume you can tell my technicians how to do that?"

Ezrikos smiles slightly. "Of course."

What follows is a very one-sided discussion between the unorthodox leader of the best Stargate team in the Empire, and her commanding officer: a man with a world view slightly left of Attila the Hun.

"No, sir, the move was dictated by necessity, I…yes, sir. No sir." She listens for a moment and then turns to Dr. Weir who is standing nearby politely ignoring her. "Would it be possible to put this on speaker? Commander Madison would like to speak with you."

Weir smiles pleasantly. Diplomat, Ezrikos decides. Definitely. "Of course." She looks over at a tech, and then says, "Commander? This is Doctor Weir."

The voice that comes over the speaker could have been bottled and sold to take the veneer off furniture. "Doctor, since you know who I am we shall skip the preliminaries."

It is not a question.

"I have been informed of a development on one of the worlds we have had previous contact with. Logistically speaking, Strike Force One in Atlantis is now the closest team to this world. I would ask that you allow them to remain and use your Stargate on this mission. I am also interested in your team, Doctor. Our societies should consider a dialogue."

He sounds very sure of himself, Dr. Weir looks surprised. Ezrikos could have told her he's always like this.

"I would not be averse to opening a dialogue between our worlds, Commander, but I will admit my curiosity about this mission."

The commander waves her concerns away, linguistically speaking. "I am sure it is nothing of great importance, Doctor. If you wish to you are certainly welcome to send your own people through as well." He hesitates, then, being a military man, adds, "Subject to Captain Ezrikos' approval, of course."

Dr. Weir appears to consider it. She looks at Major Sheppard, who both nods and shrugs at the same time, and then at Ezrikos, who does her best to stay absolutely expressionless.

"I believe that would be entirely acceptable, Commander. A pleasure to make contact with you."

They exchange brief pleasantries, during which Ezrikos interrupts to mention the deceased private, and then Weir signals to cut the connection.

Dr. Weir turns to her new military presence, and says, "Welcome. Come and have a look at the city."

* * *

Apparently, the best place to "look at the city" is from a little balcony that sticks out from an even larger conference room than the one they were just… 

Ezrikos' thoughts come to a screeching halt, and she fights hard not to show what she's feeling.

Atlantis is surrounded – she checks, yes, completely surrounded – by water.

Well, great.

Weir walks out to the railing, leaning against it. "Isn't it beautiful?" She takes a deep breath and smiles out at the huge expanse of water.

Ocean, Ezrikos thinks; this place is in the middle of the freaking _ocean_!

Nothing but water as far as the eye can see.

She takes slow, careful breaths, and tries not to scream when Major Sheppard comes up behind her.

"Really something, huh?"

Ezrikos swallows before replying. "Oh yeah, really something."

Something she'd like to get as far away from as possible.

"Is there land on this world?"

Major Sheppard is holding a hand to his head. Serves him right for refusing to go to medical. "Yeah, there's a huge chunk of land about twenty-five minutes...uh, that way."

He points off toward the horizon, but Ezrikos, not wanting to look out over the water again - gods, the water - doesn't follow his motion, and so is looking right at him when he puts his hands to his head and leans against the wall.

"Major?" She frowns at him when he doesn't respond. "Are you…"

She was going to ask if he was alright, but before she can finish he slumps a little and she knows the question is pointless. "Call medical," she orders Dr. Weir out of habit, and she takes another step toward the man.

"Major?"

He makes a strange, pained sound. Ezrikos, who has had considerable battlefield experience, has never heard one like it.

She never wants to hear it again.

He has both hands clamped over his head like he's having a migraine attack, but migraines don't make you…

She cuts the thought off and catches him as his knees buckle, his weight taking her to the ground with his head and shoulders sprawled against her.

She leans over him and moves one of his hands…and hopes the emergency medical team is comprised of Olympic Sprinters.

There's blood coming out ofhis ears…

* * *

A/N: Yeah, so it's a cliffhanger, bite me. New stolen things: the Attila the Hun comment from my history teacher, the "blood coming out of his ears" thing from Adalanta's story Any Crash You Can Walk Away From, one line from an Anita Blake book (anyone who knows what I'm talking about see if you can spot it), umm…I think that's it actually. So, no real action in this chapter, but you'll all read it anyway. Plushie Steve in my review future? 


	7. Chapter 7

He's lying very still on the hospital bed. So still that, if not for the rise and fall of his chest as he breathes, she might think he was dead. Because, in her experience, Major Sheppard is never still.

She wouldn't have thought a skull fracture would even slow him down, but it certainly seems to have done the trick.

Idiot. Her, that is. She should have made him go to medical. Maybe catching it earlier would have helped. Maybe the doctor wouldn't have that pinched look on his face from trying not to remind himself that over half of all skull fractures are fatal.

Maybe she should stop trying to forget that she knows better; that half an hour sooner wouldn't have made any difference at all.

She folds her arms on railing of the gurney.

"I don't want you to die, Major. It might not show - I hope it doesn't show - but I'm actually starting to like you." A lot, she thinks. But she doesn't tell him that, even if he can't hear her.

"I will get along without you," she informs him. "I was doing just fine for a long time before I met you. But your people I am not so sure about. Dr. Weir will be crippled, if not lost, without your council. I've known her for about four hours and I know that."

No reaction. He might as well be dead already. The thought angers her, but she doesn't know why.

"What will your men do? Will you leave Lieutenant Ford in charge of the entire military force for this city? He's twenty-five years old, Major. Will you leave _me_ in charge?"

She watches him as another long minute ticks by. She can't get over how still he is. Usually he's bouncing around, somehow managing to do his job while still pestering her with questions. She thinks of his questions, and sighs.

She takes her sunglasses off, props her elbows on the railing, and rests her chin on her hands.

"My name is Veronique, Major. Veronique Lalena Ezrikos. And if you ever call me that in public, your men will never find your body."

Nothing. She laces her fingers together and brings her forehead down to rest against her hands. She was raised to believe in the gods of her father's people, but she hasn't prayed in years.

She prays now.

And when she's finished praying, she slips one hand into his, and stares blankly at the wall to keep herself from crying.

Three hours after he collapsed against her on a balcony, Major John Sheppard's hand tightens around hers.

"Veronique is a pretty name." His voice is shaky and rough.

She looks at him sharply. "You heard that?"

He manages a nod, barely. "Yeah. You know, if you kill me for calling you that you'll be right back where you started. Which I find interesting considering you've already admitted you don't want me to die."

She frowns at him. "I'm being serious, Major."

"John," he says.

"What?"

"If you're going to be serious, you have to call me John."

She looks at him for a long moment, hesitating.

"I'm being serious, John." Her voice is softer than he's ever heard it. "I don't want you to die."

He grins at her. "Does this mean you've finally surrendered to my irresistible charm?

The intercom cuts off her reply. "Captain Ezrikos, to the control room. Captain Ezrikos, to control, please."

He raises his eyebrows, unwilling to let her leave without answering.

She slides her sunglasses back on.

"Don't get your hopes up, hot shot."

* * *

When she finally finds the control center, Dr. Weir is waiting for her. 

"I was wondering," she says, "if you and a few of your people might like to take a look around."

Part of Ezrikos wants to say, " Keep me as far from the edge of this city as possible and I'll do anything you want." Another part is thinking about the intelligence that could be gathered indirectly on such an expedition.

The rest of her, as always, looks for an ulterior motive.

"You need a military force to go with your people while they explore?"

Weir looks surprised, then slightly embarrassed. "Well, I wouldn't turn one down, but how did you know we were still exploring? Major Sheppard?"

Ezrikos smiles at her, amused. "No. Deduction. From the looks of things you've only been here a few months at the most, and this city is huge. You can't have explored and secured all of it."

Dr. Weir laughs and says, " Very astute, Captain. So, interested?"

Ezrikos has a brief thought about the ocean they're surrounded by…wait.

There is no way this city is an island. Tidal effect alone would swamp it…Dear gods.

They're _on_ the ocean. This whole city is _floating_ on the ocean!

Focus.

She forces herself to smile at Dr. Weir. "I'd be very interested," she says. "Let me go see if anyone else would."

Let me go get a grip on myself.

* * *

Despite her almost pathological desire to run back to the control room and beg the first person she sees to get her on dry land, Ezrikos is actually enjoying the little "tour". 

They're exploring a section that seems to be mostly storage rooms. Many of them are empty, but some yield strange looking doodads that the senior scientist with them exclaims over like a child with a dangerous toy.

Or at least, she thinks that's what he's doing. He doesn't speak the same as most of the rest of the people in Atlantis, and occasionally he lapses into another language entirely. For all she knows he's cursing at the things.

When they wander into a storage room completely filled with…things, she changes that estimate. Nobody curses with that look of utter joy on their face.

"Captain," he calls to her happily, bending over something on a table, "Please! Come look!"

Ezrikos sighs a little apprehensively (the last time he asked her to "please come look" at something it very nearly blew up in their faces) and walks over to him, mentally scanning for his name. Zelemka? No, that's not it. Zeleka? Zelanka?

'Zelenka!' She thinks triumphantly, and then promptly forgets it as she comes close enough to see what he's looking at curiously.

She was lost when he pointed out the other little things they've come across so far, flux capacitors and self-adjusting sprockets and so on, but this, this is her specialty.

Lying on the table are a bunch of awkward looking black pieces.

Dr. Zelenka leans over it. "I am thinking," he says excitedly, "is some kind of disassembled diagnostic device. Yes?"

It's clear from his tone that he's only asking for her opinion to include her, but she says, "I don't think so, Doctor."

She reaches out and picks up one of the pieces, ignoring Zelenka's panicked glance.

Oh yeah. _This_ she can handle.

Oblivious to the curious stares she's garnering from the Atlantians (her people know her well enough not to be surprised in the slightest) Ezrikos picks up various pieces one after another, snapping them into place.

Holding the thing away from her body and off the table, she slides the last piece into place, and jerks on the slide. There's a sharp "shk-chk" sound, and she puts the fully assembled device to her shoulder, and looks at Zelenka who says simply, "Oh. I see."

It's a sniper rifle.

As a probable side effect of having learned to shoot at eight years old, Ezrikos is hands down the best shot in Strike Force One, probably in the entire Space Force. She's been the designated sniper in every team she's ever been on, but the rifle she brought through the 'gate is _nothing_ like this one.

One of the more curious Atlantian soldiers wanders over and raises his eyebrows in silent request. She hands it to him and watches as he looks it over much the way she had been.

"Should we try it out?" he asks.

Ezrikos looks at Zelenka, who appears very nervous, but shrugs.

"Why not?" she tells the other soldier, and they all troop out to the nearest balcony where he takes careful aim over the ocean – which Ezrikos is carefully not looking at – and squeezes the trigger.

And nothing happens.

"Huh," he says, "that's funny."

"Maybe it's not loaded," calls another soldier.

The first man hands the rifle back to Ezrikos, who pops the magazine. It certainly looks loaded to her.

Not a trusting person by nature, she puts the rifle to her own shoulder and examines it down the barrel.

"Perhaps it requires the ATA gene," Zelenka says behind her.

"Gene?" she asks, half-listening.

"Yes," he replies, sounding pleased. All scientist love to explain things. "Much of the technology in Atlantis requires that its user possess a specific gene sequence inherited from the Ancients. Private Jameson doesn't have it. And," he adds as she takes aim at a floating buoy in the water – unavoidable, really, there's nowhere else to aim – and prepares to test it again, "It's highly unlikely that your people have it, being as far from Atlantis as your system is…"

He trails off as Ezrikos sets her feet and squeezes the trigger, not really expecting much but bracing herself just in case.

There's a soft "pfft" sound, and the buoy jumps about two meters in the air…and then sinks.

She looks around at the scientist.

"Highly unlikely?"

* * *

A/N: Like you didn't see that one coming. Thanks: littlefoot22 for her help with this chapter and with chapter 5 (sorry, forgot to credit you for that one). Oh: **Important**: I totally made up that statistic about skull fractures. Complete BS. Seriously, I know nothing about skull fractures. New stolen things: Flux Capacitors from Koschka. 


	8. Chapter 8

They've been on Atlantis for two weeks when she has the nightmare again.

Bahzir don't require much sleep, but occasionally it's necessary, and she's been so tired lately.

Dr. Beckett decreed that Major Sheppard was not to go _anywhere_ for three weeks. Period. Dr. Weir was reluctant to allow the Alketch through on their little expedition without her chief military officer, and asked Ezrikos to wait.

Reluctantly, she had agreed.

Beckett has been running tests on her since they realized she had their precious gene; apparently no other member of the Strike Force has it. Probably because they're all Alketch.

And she's a patient woman, but the tests are long and boring, mostly consisting of Beckett asking her to turn random things on, turn other things off, taking blood samples…and she's tired.

And the nightmare hasn't come for months now.

So she risks it.

* * *

It's always the same: a disorienting sensation of waking, even though part of her knows she's still dreaming. Cold metal under her cheek, and absolute blackness. Blackness not even her hybrid eyes can penetrate. 

And the rocking.

The constant, back and forth, gentle rocking. When it happened she didn't recognize it, and she wasn't afraid.

Now she knows what it is.

And she's terrified.

Sometimes this is all there is to the nightmare, the slow, constant, rocking, and the blackness, until the pounding of her heart jerks her from sleep.

Sometimes it ends there.

But not always.

She knows she's dreaming; she always knows, but she can still feel the footsteps, their staccato rhythm at odds with the rocking.

Back, forth, _step_, _step, step_, back, forth, _step…_

Sometimes it ends here.

But not always.

Sometimes it goes farther, like now, and the steps and the rocking are swirled away in the flash of painful light that greets her outside of the cool metal box. And she's afraid in the dream but she knows she wasn't when it happened.

Knows she wasn't afraid, thinking she could run, she could run and run and no one could outrun the Bahzir. And she wasn't afraid until she got out.

And saw that she couldn't run.

It ends here, with the rising panic and choking terror, looking out over the boundless ocean, knowing she's trapped light years from home, knowing she can't run, can't hide on a ship barely ten meters long.

Being eight years old, and knowing she's about to die.

* * *

Ezrikos falls out of bed with a cry, hits the floor in a roll, and comes up on her feet with a seven inch knife in one hand, and her handgun in the other. 

There's no one else in the room.

She stares wildly at the strange walls, until she remembers where she is.

Not again.

It's been months – _months_ – since she's had that nightmare.

Ezrikos sighs, and walks into the bathroom attached to her room. The Ancients sure had a lot of accommodations: every room has an _en suite_ bathroom, and oh, is she glad of that now.

She stares at herself in the mirror, and forces her heartbeat to slow, and her breathing to steady.

She knows the haunted look in her eyes will fade in a few minutes.

Of its own volition, her hand slides slowly down her back, to the jagged scar that her tattoos don't quite hide.

She knows from experience that looking won't help, but she twists and peers into the mirror over her own shoulder.

Still there.

It hurt, she remembers. It hurt like hell, and it was hard to do herself, but she's never regretted it, even though everyone said she would.

Everyone being the soldiers who found her, and the Imperial officials who met the flight coming in, and her mother.

Her mother especially.

Well, fuck them all, she doesn't regret it.

She turns back to face the mirror, and decides she's fine. Her eyes are still eight years old and terrified, but she wears sunglasses all the time anyway; no one will notice.

No one will ever know.

* * *

Major Sheppard catches her in the corridor. He's walking now, but Dr. Beckett has threatened bloody murder if he even _thinks_ about doing anything more. 

"Captain," he says in greeting, falling into step with her, "come help me convince Dr. Weir that I'm fine. I'm going stir crazy here."

Ezrikos rolls her eyes behind her sunglasses. What is it with men and not resting their injuries?

"You aren't fine, Major," she replies, coolly. "And Dr. Beckett hasn't cleared you, so Weir is hardly going to go over his head and let you go off world."

He scowls, and opens his mouth to reply, but she beats him to it.

"I'm sorry, Major." He gives her a questioning look. "I apologize for letting reality interfere in your little universe where nothing slows you down, and the good guys always win, and discrete skull fractures don't cause deadly relapses when pushed too hard. Of course I'll go help you convince Dr. Weir of your readiness."

Sarcasm is something Ezrikos does best.

Sheppard gives her a long look. "Well then just come with me."

She sighs, and follows him into Weir's office.

* * *

She's not there, of course. She's out on her balcony. 

Ezrikos steps onto it and her heartbeat trip-hammers.

"…_staring out over the boundless ocean…"_

It doesn't appear that she's required to speak in this little argument, so she just leans against the wall and hopes they'll think her arms are merely crossed, not hugging herself.

At least Atlantis doesn't rock.

* * *

A/N: Major, major credit goes to littlefoot22 for this. Actually, without her help this would never have been written. I actually don't think I've stolen anything this chapter…amazing. 


	9. Chapter 9

"Sir," Desperaux tells her when they run into each other in the corridor, "you really have to talk to someone."

They were roommates at War College; Desperaux knows her captain has nightmares, even if she doesn't know exactly what they're about.

Ezrikos blows her off. She's never spoken to anyone about them, and anyway, she's busy now. Beckett has finally cleared Major Sheppard for active duty, and Dr. Weir has agreed to give a go-ahead on the mission to Potamia, which Ezrikos has been looking forward to, seeing as it's the job she came here to do.

Maybe then she can get off this floating catastrophe.

She feels a little pang of loss at that thought, and isn't sure why. It's not like she wants to be here. Shouldn't she be glad about the possibility of going home?

Whatever.

The technician up in the control room is just saying, "Chevron seven encoded," when Major Sheppard joins them.

"Good morning, Captain," he says brightly.

She looks sideways at him and can't help but smile.

"You were going stir crazy, weren't you?"

He nods vigoursly. "Oh yeah."

And they walk through the Stargate together.

* * *

Potamia is the sole inhabited world in a binary system. It is forested, inhabited by humans who call themselves 'Potamians', and it is wet. 

Although not usually _this_ wet.

It's raining lightly but steadily when they come through the Stargate, and it appears to have been raining for quite some time now.

Ezrikos takes a look around, and decides she doesn't like it. She's not a huge fan of forests. Or rain.

"Let's find the base," she calls to Sheppard, who has, predictably, wandered toward the tree line.

He waves an acknowledgement, and everyone follows Sergeant Spruance's pointed direction toward the clearly visible Alketch military structure. "Find," was a figure of speech.

It's a small encampment: a handful of troops to hold the expeditionary base they've set up on this world and the half a dozen assorted scientists, doctors, and government officials that always seem to find their way onto this sort of mission.

The sentry lets them pass when he sees the uniforms, and when Ezrikos steps into what acts as the command center every armed person in the room (about ten people) jumps to their feet and stands at attention.

Ah, the glories of rank.

"Good morning, Lieutenant," she says calmly to the officer who appears to be in charge, "Captain Ezrikos, Commander Strike Force One."

He salutes her, still at attention, and replies, "Lieutenant Jackson, sir. It's good to have you."

"You sent a distress signal, Lieutenant," she reminds him. "May I ask why?"

"Straight to business, sir?" When she just raises an eyebrow at him he turns back to his table and says, "Give us the room please, people?"

When they're gone he offers the four of them – Ezrikos, Sheppard, Ford, and Lt. Emmons, Ezrikos' second in command – a seat at the now vacant table.

"It's the rain, sir," he says in the tone of someone admitting a mistake.

"The rain?"

"Yes, sir. This season we've had some unusually heavy rains, making the spring planting impossible. The local people are beginning to believe that they're going to starve to death this winter."

Ezrikos tilts her head at him. "And this is a military problem…how?"

Sheppard shoots her a disapproving look, which she ignores.

"Well, sir," the lieutenant continues, "because of the lack of food, the people are getting…" he hesitates, "restless, sir. They're forming what looks like the beginning of an armed insurgency."

"You think they're going to rebel?"

"Yes, sir. There's a local man who been rallying them, claiming he can help them take this base and throw off the Empire taking their food."

Sheppard frowns at him. "_Are_ you taking their food?"

The lieutenant looks startled. "No, sir. This base is completely self-sufficient; we have little interaction with the Potamians of any kind."

"Then why do they think you are?"

"I honestly have no idea, sir."

"Back to the point," Ezrikos says, sharply, "You think that they will attempt an attack?"

"Yes, sir," says Lieutenant Jackson. "I don't have the men to hold this base against an attack of that size without killing most of the attackers. Maybe not even then."

Ezrikos nods to herself. "Alright, Lieutenant. We'll see what we can do. In the meantime, have you sent for relief supplies yet?"

The man looks blank. "Relief supplies, sir?"

She frowns at him. "Yes, Lieutenant. Relief supplies. For the crop failure?"

"We're going to give them relief supplies, sir?"

She stares at him. "Yes. Lieutenant." Her voice is acid etched steel. "We are going to give them relief supplies. You do not sit around and watch an entire village of people starve to death. Was that your plan?"

"Ah, no. No, sir, I…"

She cuts him off. "Never mind. I don't really care. Find quarters for my people; I," she catches Sheppard's glance and adds, "and Major Sheppard are going back to the Stargate to send the message. I am taking command of this base for the duration of our presence."

"Yes, sir!" The lieutenant stands perfectly still, eyes fixed on some indefinable point on the wall, as she stalks out of the room, Major Sheppard on her heels.

* * *

"You thought I was going to back him up, didn't you?" 

He turns and looks at her. "What?"

"That incompetent, elitist lieutenant. You thought I was going to add soldiers to that base and hold it against a bunch of rebelling farmers. Didn't you?"

They're almost to the Stargate, moving along the road through the rain and silence of the forest.

"No," he says after a long moment. "I didn't."

She looks at him, unsure. "Really?"

"Really. Why, were you considering it?"

Ezrikos laughs. "No. It's impractical. We'd have to stick around here protecting that base until they all died of starvation, and I hate rain. Besides, it's easily solved."

Sheppard shakes his head. "I wonder about you, Veronique. I really do."

The name brings her head around, but there's no one within hearing distance, and after a moment she decides she doesn't really mind that much.

She doesn't really mind at all.

* * *

They're on the way back, message successfully sent and received, when it starts to pour. 

They look at each other, laugh, and make a run for it.

She beats him; she's a Bahzir after all. Plus, she hates rain a whole lot more than he does. They hit the entrance to the bunkrooms, and are immediately directed to the wet room to remove all wet clothing so as not to drip water all over the floor.

Ezrikos stands in the middle of the room and looks down at herself, and then at him. They're both absolutely soaking wet. Sheppard gasps for breath, wiping water out of his eyes and laughing at her drowned cat expression.

She throws her wet jacket at him (why, oh why didn't she bring the 100 percent waterproof one instead of the water resistant one?) and peels off her shirt while simultaneously unlacing her boots, a talent she picked up on a world that seemed to be completely covered in mud.

She dumps her combat pants on top of the growing pile, and then stops, realizing that Major Sheppard is staring at her. She glances sideways at him.

"Can I help?"

He looks up at her, startled. "Oh. Uh, sorry." He goes back to staring at her legs and then immediately jerks his eyes back to her face. That of course involves dragging his eyes over every other part of her, but she's relatively used to that.

"You have very nice… tattoos."

"I'll bet that's not what you were going to say."

He grins at her. Gods, that grin.

"Actually," he admits, "the first word that came to mind was 'wow,' but I figured you probably wouldn't appreciate that."

"Wow?"

He nods sagely. "Wow."

She shakes her head as she walks past him. "Men. Show them something almost naked and female and they're reduced to monosyllables."

"Hey!" he calls after her, "I said 'appreciate!'"

She laughs at him over her shoulder.

Wow, huh?

She could get used to that.

* * *

A/N: Okay, so it's been a while. I charted this out finally, so there is an end in sight, not that I'm entirely sure Ezrikos will stay contained in this one story…we'll see. Thanks to everyone who bothers to review, and, of course, littlefoot22 who helps me work out plot snarls. Plushie Steve: Review or I will FEED! Hah, hah, hah! Raq: Bad Steve, bad! (whacks Plushie Steve with a stick.) Review or I will feed you to Steve! 


	10. Chapter 10

They send the group's anthropologist down to the village to tell the Potamians that they've sent for relief supplies and no one is going to starve to death.

Apparently that's not enough.

"They're still rioting," the man tells Ezrikos when he returns to the camp. "That leader of theirs has got them convinced that we're here to destroy them."

Major Sheppard, who happens to be hanging around, as he always is, sighs. "We'll have to go talk to him, I guess."

Ezrikos nods distractedly, and says, "Inciting to riot is an serious offence on an Imperial Colony." Her voice is husky and soft, musing.

Sheppard shoots her a very surprised, slightly worried look, and she smiles at him, and brushes the incident away.

One of the village women comes up to the camp a few hours later. She's worried that the leader – Bohkus Dhy is his name – is leading the people astray. Her son is one of his enforcers.

"He's a good man, I'm sure," she says wistfully to Ezrikos, "but he speaks of ruling us after the Empire is gone, and of tithing." She turns pleading eyes to Major Sheppard, who she has correctly guessed is the "good cop" in this little interview. "He's always looking after my neighbor's girls; I worry for our future if the Empire leaves."

Ezrikos' beautiful face twists into a sneer of disgust. "We'll take care of it," she says, "but I wouldn't worry: the Empire never leaves anybody alone."

When the woman has gone, Sheppard says, "Let me talk to him."

The remark surprises her. "This is not your problem, Major."

"I know, but I'm here, and I'll bet I'm a whole lot better at talking people out of things than you are."

She pretends to be far more insulted by that than she actually is. "You underestimate me, Major. I'm _very_ good at convincing people not to do things."

"Yes, but I mean without threats."

"Where's the fun in that?"

* * *

At any rate, nothing comes of it. Dhy gives him nothing but the party line of "We will throw off these outworlder oppressors and rule self-determined, knowing full well what is best for our own people…blah, blah, blah…"

Sheppard comes back to the camp, and finds Ezrikos sitting in the sun with her back against a building.

He walks up and looks down at her. "No dice," he says. "Your move."

"I'm sorry? Sometimes, Major, I find your methods of expression a little difficult to follow."

He sighs, and sits down on the grass next to her, his knee against hers.

"Dhy won't give an inch; we'll have to try something else."

She smiles up at the sky. "I could have saved you the trip."

"You are such a fucking pessimist." She grins. "What are you doing out here?"

"Shooting squalls," she says, and he sees that she has the Ancient rifle on her lap.

"What are squalls?"

On cue, a hideous thing that looks like an unhappy marriage between a buzzard and a Gila monster, comes shrieking out of the forest. Really, really fast.

Ezrikos puts the rifle to her shoulder, and follows it for a moment before blowing it into little pieces.

"Pretty powerful rounds," he says when he's recovered his voice.

"Very," she agrees. "Come on."

She gets up and he follows, asking, "Where are we going?"

"To solve your problem," she calls, waving to Desperaux that they'll be back.

He doesn't like the sound of that.

* * *

He's right. They've been lying on a grassy knoll for ten minutes, Ezrikos stubbornly refusing to tell him what's going on, when Dhy strolls into view, arguing with a man Sheppard recognizes as the mayor of one of the nearby villages.

"Probably brought him out here to quietly dump his body," Ezrikos breathes into his ear. And the heat of her body pressed against him is distraction enough that he doesn't get it until she rises to her knees with the rifle.

And blows Bohkus Dhy's head all over the forest floor.

He gapes at her, completely ignoring the shrieking mayor.

She smiles unpleasantly. "Inciting to riot on an Imperial Colony in the initial stage of conquest is an executable offense. Three of my uncles were killed for it."

Ezrikos looks back down at the body.

"It can't be that easy," she says softly.

And it isn't.

* * *

It's the rain that's the main problem. They took care of the food shortage with several loads of supplies, but the water is still rising, and many villages are built close to water.

They're trying to evacuate a town of Potamians. The Potato-heads, as Ford has taken to calling them.

Their town is on the banks of a huge river. Swollen with the unprecedented rainfall, the river has flooded its banks, and the town will be washed away in a few hours.

Major Sheppard is sixty or seventy feet away when the boy falls into the river. He turns at the yelp in time to see the eight or nine year old lose balance, but far too far away to do anything about it.

But he isn't the closest military officer.

Ezrikos drops her rifle and hits the water with a spilt second reaction time. Sheppard and several of the town adults run to the banks and watch worriedly as her head comes up slightly downstream of them. She has the boy under one arm.

"You'll have to swim for it, Captain," he shouts to her. "We can't get anything across."

She looks over at him, and although she's a couple dozen yards away, fetched up against a convenient rock, he could swear she looks scared. She nods at him after a moment.

It's a complicated process of kicking off and gliding with the current, made more difficult by the child, but she manages somehow, and Sheppard grabs her hand as one of the town adults takes the child, and hauls her up the steep bank.

She's shivering, and he realizes that the water must be below 30 degrees. He had noticed it was cold, but he hasn't been swimming in it.

"Better get back to the camp and get dry, Captain. Wouldn't want you to get sick."

He knows something's wrong when she doesn't argue, doesn't even look at him, just nods, and turns to walk back; deaf to the gratitude of the child's relieved parents.

So he makes up some excuse to accompany her.

When she hasn't said anything by the time they've almost reached the base, he knows he'll have to do this the hard way.

"Captain, what is it?"

She looks surprised. Too surprised. Her eyebrows have practically reached her hairline.

"What is what, Major?"

He just looks at her, walking side by side now. She looks away.

After a moment she says, "I was raised on Casca. I know you've never been there, but…"she pauses. "It's a warm world."

She takes a deep breath, still not looking at him, her arms wrapped around herself.

"My father's people are desert nomads, Major. I was raised among them." She licks her lips nervously, and then says very softly, "I'm afraid of water."

When he says nothing she swallows again. "I had to learn to swim as part of the Strike Force training, but I hate it."

They're nearing the sentry line, and she still hasn't looked at him. There's more to it. He knows she's hiding something, but the part of him that has any experience at all with this kind of thing is telling him not to push it.

So he doesn't.

He reaches out and grabs her arm gently.

"Captain."

She turns, and looks at him for the first time since he pulled her out of the river. She looks terrified. She's shaking constantly, and he doesn't think it's because she's cold.

He reminds himself that this is the woman he saw assassinate a man in the forest just yesterday without even a blink. Trying to reconcile this new information with that premise is a little difficult, but after a moment he's able to see her as she is, not as she would like to appear to be.

He considers her, wondering if he's about to get twisted and broken into a human pretzel for doing this, and then does it anyway.

He very gently pulls her to him. She hesitates at first, but then, seeking the warmth of his body, she slides her arms around him underneath his jacket. His arms tighten, and he just stands there, holding her as she cries silently against his shoulder.

He likes the feel of her in his arms, and he tries not to think about how completely out-of-character this is for her, and how crazy it is for both of them.

Because honestly? He can use the comfort too.


	11. Chapter 11

She's lost control.

She cried, for the god's sakes. She _never_ cries. She grew up the desert, she knows how precious water is, what the hell is wrong with her?

Maybe she _should_ talk to someone. She'd hate to prove Desperaux right, but they've been assigned to Atlantis pending further notice and she doesn't know how much longer she can take it. Something about building ties and getting to know each other. The might of the Alketch Empire recognizing a kindred spirit in the United States.

Conquerors. Conquerors determined to keep her on this hellish world where a million and one things can and do go wrong, daily. It's probably a plot. The gods are punishing her for turning away from her people. This is exactly the kind of retribution they would…

You're being stupid. Shut up.

Focus.

She needs help and she knows it. Privately she's known it for years.

* * *

The psychologist's name is Dr. Heightmeyer. "Call me Kate," she says with a gentle smile.

She's a pretty little blonde thing, a creature of air and light. Next to her Ezrikos is a hunting cat, and a particularly mean one at that.

"What can I do for you, Captain," she asks. "Or would you just like to talk?"

I'm cracked up, she thinks.

What she says is, "I have nightmares."

The doctor doesn't say anything. Somehow that makes it easier.

"I've had them for a while now."

"Since you came to Atlantis?"

Ezrikos shakes her head. "Since I was eight." And then she adds, "They're worse here, though."

"And why do you think that is?"

Good question.

"The water," she says. It just pops out without her really thinking about it, and then she's talking, but her mouth is the only thing controlling what she says. The words just come.

"I'm afraid of water. Always have been, it's a cultural thing: I grew up in the desert."

Kate nods, never taking her eyes away. "I've talked to some other crew members about it before. It's perfectly normal, especially if you're not accustomed to it."

Ezrikos waves the platitude aside. "It doesn't bother me; I'm used to that, even if I don't like it."

The doctor says, "Tell me about the nightmares."

"It's more like a memory. As in it really happened, and in my dream I'm back there."

"Is it exactly what happened?" she asks, her tone curious, but professional.

"Yes. Well, I don't know. It stops at a point and I wake up before the…event finishes."

There's a pause.

"Event?"

"Yes." She hesitates here. She's hasn't told anyone this in decades.

"Something wrong?"

"It's just…it's complicated, I don't…" she sighs, "I don't know how to start."

"Start at the beginning, in your own words."

Well, what the hell.

* * *

My mother was adopted. She was Bahzir, but her parents were killed, and an Alketch family on Brysa adopted her. It was a fad at the time to take in Bahzir children. She grew up there, became an anthropologist.

And went back to Casca. To study the Bahzir.

_Dr. Heightmeyer doesn't interrupt. She just listens._

She lived with the Hazdrozaboth for a year, writing a paper. Then she left to get published, get famous, get back to the Empire.

She came back.

She stayed for a long time, this time. She met my father. She had me.

Then she left again. And this time she didn't come back.

I grew up there…the details aren't important, I'm sorry, I'm babbling…

"_It's alright. Whatever you need to say to get it out."_

Yes, well. There's a point in here somewhere.

When I was eight, I was kidnapped by a group of smugglers.

_She ignores the doctor's sharp intake of breath._

They were the suppliers in a prostitution ring. They took me to a planet called Matria.

A planet covered almost entirely by water.

"_Like this one."_

Yes.

The nightmare is of being in the cargo hold, feeling the ship rock back and forth on the water, not that I knew it then.

I was in a shipping crate, but I got out, I don't really remember how. I thought I could run. The Bahzir are great runners. That's the nightmare. I get out of the crate, and out of the hold, and then I get onto the deck. And I see that I can't run.

Then I wake up.

"_What happened then, when it really happened?"_

My mother had had a location chip implanted subcutaneously when I was born. Under the skin at the small of my back. When she heard I was missing, she had her friends in the government call out a rescue squad.

_She lapses into contemplative silence, remembering her mother, and the chip._

"_So they took you off the…off Matria?" _

Yes.

"_Is that all?"_

Yes.

"_Would you like to talk about what we might do about it?"_

Gods, no.

_But she doesn't say that._

* * *

"You must hate being in Atlantis," Dr. Heightmeyer says after they've talked for a while longer. "Being constantly surrounded by water."

Ezrikos smiles faintly.

"It's something of a challenge. I try to avoid looking out the window."

They both laugh a little. This wasn't what she expected; it's like talking to a friend.

A nosy friend, sure, but not a doctor.

A shrink, Major Sheppard calls her, Ezrikos remembers.

"You've been assigned to Atlantis pending further notice, haven't you?" Kate says. "How do you fell about that?"

And Ezrikos doesn't have an answer for her.

* * *

Major Sheppard finds her in the hall on her way back.

"Captain," he says with his habitual knee-melting grin. "Come check this out."

He takes her to the top of the southwest pier, where the sun is just setting.

"It occurred to me that you'd never seen the sunset from up here," he says. "It's really something."

He pauses, and then adds, "If you've got a problem with the whole 'looking over the ocean' part, I'll take you back."

She hesitates, and then puts a hand over his on the railing.

"It's fine," she tells him.

And it is.

...fin

* * *

A/N: Yeah! My first complete story, ever! Oh, come on, you know she'll be back. Thank you so much to everyone who stuck with it, Amaruk, puddles1311, MacCartney, Marla, highonscifi, Erinamation, Littlefoot22 – thanks for all your help with storylines, and don't think I'm done with you yet, you know there'll be more. Until next time… 


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